Romans de Athisarae

CENTRAL LONDON - HARRODS"Alistair, we have a strategy meeting in two hours," Eleanor said, checking her watch as they strolled past a display of luxury fountain pens. "And I haven't reviewed the Shanghai reports yet."Alistair reached out and gently took her wrist, lowering her hand."The reports can wait," he said softly.Eleanor looked up at him, surprised. "But... the deadline.""That is exactly why we are here," Alistair said. He stopped walking and turned her to face him, ignoring the bustle of shoppers around them. "Look at us. For the last few weeks, we have forgotten how to smile and have fun."He looked down at Leo, who was mesmerized by a display of floating magnetic globes nearby."We forgot the most important part," Alistair said, his eyes warm and sad. "We forgot to be a family. In Shanghai, we went to the park every Sunday. We got ice cream. We laughed. I don't want to lose that to this war."Eleanor felt a lump form in her throat. He was right. The war with Simone had

The rain had stopped, but the air inside the library remained heavy, charged with the static of unresolved grief.On the oak table, old police reports were spread out like a fan. Photos of a mangled sedan, skid marks on a wet highway, and a toxicology report that had been falsified to blame the victim.Lucian stood by the fireplace, staring into the flames. He had sneaked out of the penthouse while Jane was in a pill-induced sleep, risking everything to bring these files to Eleanor."It’s not here," Damien said, rubbing his eyes. He pushed a file away. "We have proof of the money laundering. We have proof of Liana’s imprisonment. But the crash... Simone scrubbed it clean.""He didn't scrub everything," Lucian said, his voice low. "The mechanic who signed off on the vehicle inspection two days before the crash. His name was missing from the official police docket, but I found it in Simone’s personal ledger. A payout of fifty thousand pounds, dated the day after the funeral.""A payoff,

The conference room was a glass cage suspended twenty stories above the city. It was neutral ground—Switzerland for corporate sharks.Jane Thorne sat on the left side of the mahogany table, dressed in a sharp crimson suit. She looked like a woman ready for war, her hand resting possessively on the arm of the empty chair beside her."They’re late," Jane hissed. "She does it on purpose. She wants to make an entrance.""Relax, Jane," Hector Delgado rumbled from the other side of her. "This is a negotiation for the Antwerp port access. Keep your emotions in check. We have the leverage."The double doors opened.Lucian walked in first. He wore his usual dark Rothschild suit, impeccable and sharp, but his eyes were shadowed with exhaustion. He didn't look at Jane. He walked past her, ignoring the hand she reached out to touch his arm, and sat in the chair beside her."You're late," Jane whispered harshly."Traffic," Lucian said, opening a file without looking at her.A moment later, the doo

VALEMONT MANOR - THE LIBRARYThe morning sun cut through the heavy velvet drapes of the library, illuminating a room that felt less like a home and more like a bunker.Lucian sat at the head of the oak table. The fever had broken during the night, leaving him pale and hollow-cheeked, but his eyes were sharp. He wore a fresh shirt Alistair had provided, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms tense with energy.Opposite him, Damien was pacing. He looked different today—less like the frightened boy who had arrived in the rain, and more like someone who had spent years silently observing the enemy."It’s not enough," Damien said, breaking the silence. He stopped pacing and looked at the whiteboard where Lucian had mapped out Simone’s network. "I’ve gone through the Berlin archives. We have proof of the payments. We have proof of the therapy. But Simone has insulated himself.""He has judges in his pocket," Lucian admitted, his voice raspy. "And he has the press. If we file charges, he w

VALEMONT MANOR - UPSTAIRS HALLWAYThe house had finally fallen quiet.Alistair Chen closed the door to the master bedroom softly, the latch clicking with a barely audible sound. It had taken an hour to calm Leon Valemont down. The old man’s heart was fragile, and the shock of seeing the Rothschild brothers in his home had nearly sent him into another arrhythmia.Alistair had sat with him, discussing perimeter sensors and thermal cameras until Leon’s breathing evened out and sleep finally claimed him.Now, Alistair stood alone in the hallway. The storm outside had muffled to a low, steady thrumming against the roof.He loosened his tie, letting out a long, weary exhale. He wasn't just tired from the travel or the crisis management. He was tired in a way that settled deep in his bones.He walked down the stairs, his footsteps silent on the plush runner.He headed for the library. He expected to find them strategizing. He expected to see Eleanor pacing, planning with the Rothschilds.But

VALEMONT MANOR - THE MAIN ENTRANCEThe storm that had started in Berlin seemed to have followed them across the channel. Thunder shook the very foundations of Valemont Manor, rattling the stained-glass windows of the foyer like the fist of an angry god.Eleanor stood by the heavy oak door, her hand hovering over the latch. She checked the security monitor again. A black sedan was parked haphazardly at the bottom of the steps, headlights cutting through the deluge."I told security not to let anyone in," she muttered, frustration tightening her jaw. "Especially not a Rothschild.""It’s Lucian," Alistair said, standing behind her, calm as always. "He wouldn't be here unless it was an emergency. And... he isn't alone."Eleanor threw the door open, ready to tell Lucian exactly which part of 'stay away' he didn't understand. The wind whipped rain into the hallway instantly, soaking the rug."Lucian, I told you—"She stopped.Two men stood on the porch, drenched to the bone, shivering viole